My husband is a police officer. He has a drug sniffing dog. We teach the kids to say no. Remember all that.

A couple of weeks ago, our Connor turned three. The boy is pretty easy to please. He just wanted a number three candle for his cake, but we got him a bit more.

He loves “holey shoes,” as he calls them. He means Crocs. So, a bit before his birthday, I visited one of their outlet stores and bought him a royal blue (they call it “sea blue,” but whatever) pair of Cayman Crocs. He got that and his “very own Cubbies shirt!”

He was elated.

A few days after his birthday, some friends of ours were talking to him at church. Mind you, this friend is also a police officer. “Connor, what did you get for your birthday?”

His reply?

“Um, a Cubbies shirt and some Crack.”

Maybe our drug-sniffing dog can teach him to pronounce Crocs a little better. To this day, he’s still calling them Crack.

This entry was posted on Monday, October 20th, 2008 at 11:29 am and is filed under Connor. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.